


Eleven percent

by withered



Series: Who's been lovin' you good? [35]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Because he has no self control, Bucky and stuffed bears, Bucky getting things he likes, M/M, People should really appreciate Tony more, Post Captain America: Civil War, Soft Bucky, Tony will give them to him, and just wants to make people happy, bucky deserves nice things, like seriously give that man a hug and a heartfelt thank you, not team Cap friendly, russian bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 12:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17766527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withered/pseuds/withered
Summary: It’s only because of the teddy bear that this is happening.At least, that’s what Tony tries to convince himself.It certainly isn’t the way Barnes’ eyes widen in surprise, the way his cheeks flush pink or how his mouth drops open in awe as the stuffed bear stares up at him with button-blue eyes.Though if he’s being honest, it’s only part of the reason.Like eleven percent of the reason.





	Eleven percent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ossifrage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ossifrage/gifts).



> I think this is the last of the Teddy-bear fics. I'm pretty sure.

 

It’s only because of the teddy bear that this is happening.

At least, that’s what Tony tries to convince himself.

It certainly isn’t the way Barnes’ eyes widen in surprise, the way his cheeks flush pink or how his mouth drops open in awe as the stuffed bear stares up at him with button-blue eyes.

Though if he’s being honest, it’s only part of the reason.

Like eleven percent of the reason.

Maybe less.

Because then Barnes meets his eyes, heartbreakingly earnest as he whispered, “Thank you.”

But was he done? _No,_ then, Barnes had continued quietly in Russian, “ _It’s so soft…amazing…and it…it looks like me? Is it me? So soft…oh my god.”_ Before looking back up at Tony startled as if he had forgotten that Tony was even there, then embarrassed and flushing and mumbling his thanks again, as if Tony had personally done him a favor.

And it’s pretty sad, actually that Tony will light up right back with those two words alone and even a hint of genuine praise, before becoming obsessed forever with the person it’s coming from.

Because that eleven percent is actually for the warmth that curls in Tony’s gut at a job well done infused with such sincere gratitude, it’s addictive and Tony’s been deprived, and once he’s had some, he just doesn’t know when to quit.

Really, that’s why Tony starts hunting down ways to get that reaction out of Barnes again.

That’s why there’s always plums stocked in the kitchen, why Tony orders fresh tulips for the Compound, why he doesn’t complain when Vision makes enough bread in the Common kitchen to feed three villages and why he binge-watches Golden Girls with Barnes every night.

It surprises Tony how simple Barnes’ desires are, how easily he lights up at each little thing, how sometimes Barnes looks at him with these wide, light eyes and murmurs in Russian how unbelievable and wonderful he thinks Tony is.

And Tony doesn’t blush.

He doesn’t.

Even if a second later, Barnes will huff out another smile and add quietly, _“God I wish I could see how far that flush goes.”_

Tony should tell him he speaks Russian, but he figures that Barnes seems happier not to be understood, and Tony will do that if it makes Barnes happy.

Plus, who doesn’t love being told super flattering things in a sexy language? It certainly made up a certain portion of the eleven percent, that’s for sure.

But see, it’s all selfish, no matter how good the deed.

And how does the saying go, “no good deed goes unpunished”?

Sounds about right.

The day that Tony realized that Barnes, soft smiles and flattering Russian aside, feels _alone_ in his new home is the day when Barnes is in a nightmare so deep even Friday can’t coax him out.

And it rocks his whole world.

By the time Tony realizes that Barnes doesn’t sleep in his bed, but rather on the cold floor with no pillow and a threadbare blanket that Tony is insulted has even found its way on his property, he’s baffled.

From his place in the doorway, he can hear Barnes’ disjointed mumbling, and even from the distance, Tony can see the sheen of cold sweat he’s broken into as the man shivers like he’s frozen.

Tony should know better than to try and touch him.

God knows what kind of reaction Barnes’ll have.

But Barnes looks so much like Peter does when he has nightmares about being almost crushed beneath the weight of a building, and Tony hasn’t forgiven himself for it either, so he simply _moves._

And that’s how he ends up with a lapful of Super Soldier, murmuring nonsense into his ear and petting back his hair because somehow _this is just his life now_.

It takes thirty minutes for Barnes to calm down.

Good thing too because sleep-deprived as Tony is himself, he’s running out of things to ramble about – until, of course, he remembers the perfectly made, completely untouched bed.

“You’re really hurting my feelings you know.”

“Thought I’d be hurting your legs with the way I’m sitting on you…”

“Cute how you think you can distract me with more words than usual,” Tony retorts, filing away the man’s embarrassed flush. “I’m talking about the bed, Frosty. Those sheets are _sateen_ , it’s softer than _silk_.” He was a hundred percent sure Barnes would lose his mind over those – practically float into the common area after a good night’s sleep and –

“I don’t…I don’t deserve…”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Christ.

“Barnes.” Tony shakes his head. “Buck -”

“No, not, I’m not…” His eyes screw together tight before shaking his head, and the trembles hit him so strongly that Tony is wrapping his arms around him tight, trying to absorb the panic that’s physically shaking Barnes’ from his bones.

And Tony is angry – so fucking angry.

Because he should have noticed sooner, put it together faster, it had been right there in front of him, and he’d been too busy being pissy at Rogers to realize.

Every time Rogers looked at Barnes – every time the other man reached for him – every time he got that look in his eye that practically wept nostalgia. Tony should have noticed the tension at Barnes’ shoulders, the grim set of his lips, the way he’d shrink as soon as Rogers turned away and Barnes looked like he wanted to disappear into the shadows…

Putting it together with how Barnes was pulling away from the simple comfort of a bed, how he was so surprised to be offered anything even half-way decent, how he’d always seemed startled when Tony, or anyone in Tony’s family, interacted with him.

And Tony had been too caught up in trying to get him to smile over tiny inconsequential things to notice, and – oh, God –

And the Witch.

She’d noticed the change in Barnes too.

The little things that had Tony devoured and jumped at, at any sign of joy from Barnes: How his lips lifted a little more, how he didn’t skulk around as much, didn’t have that blank look so persistently on his face, how Barnes was choosing to spend his time with people rather than just hiding away.

Tony remembered seeing it from the corner of his eye, how she’d been talking with Rogers, whispering in his ear as Barnes tentatively planted himself at Tony’s side or Rhodey’s corner – looking at Barnes like they were deciding something and –

No.

Fuck that.

“You deserve,” Tony said, voice quiet but harsh as he pressed his cheek against his. “You deserve good things, nice things. Whether you’re Bucky or Barnes or the Winter Soldier or – You deserve.”

“But I…I’m bad, I hurt you, and you shouldn’t -”

“Hey,” he pulled away, scowling. “Don’t tell me what to do. If I want to forgive you and shower you with affection, I can, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me except to tell me no.” He paused before nervously asking, “Do you…do you want to say no, Barnes?”

“Never,” he replied, the first sign of resolution he’d shown since Tony had walked in, and Tony nodded, pressing a thoughtless kiss against the other’s man temple, pleased and relieved and – against Tony’s neck, Barnes breathed out, _“You can ask anything of me, beloved,” –_

 _And wow,_ Tony thought, dazed, _this is definitely more than eleven percent._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I admit, I've hit a bit of a slump in writing this series. Not for lack of ideas just lack of will, I guess? I probably won't update this series in a while to try and get out of this funk, but rest assured, I still have many things I want to see done in the general scope of "Salty over Civil War/My babies deserve to be loved and happy/Rogers, Barton and Maximoff can get rekt" so I'll see you all in the next story!
> 
> [Click here if you want to find out more about my work](https://everything-withered.tumblr.com/)


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